Rip your Heart in Half
by OldRowanaRenee
Summary: Alternate ending to Pilot, starts one hour after they finish with Constance, ends after Deano gets Sammy out of the burning house. Rated for blood, death, and snogging. Snogging ONLY because I couldn't find a way around it...


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Rip your Heart in Half

"You alright?" Dean asked for probably the tenth time since he'd first helped Sam get out of the car after the kid had driven the Impala- and if the damage to Deans' baby had been any worse, there would've been hell to pay, that was a fact- into the house of the Lady in White. Sam had been oddly quiet on the trip back to the hotel, which they hadn't even reached yet. And it didn't help that he seemed almost concussed either.

Dean nodded slowly, remembering the horrible sight that had greeted him when he'd finally found the car, containing Sam and a very...persistant, to say the least, Constance. The evil scum had been trying to rip his brothers' heart out and, had Dean been able to have his way, her death would have been much more drawn out than it had been, complete with a lecture on why doing anything to Sam was a bad idea. Some old habits died hard, protecting Sam and getting wicked angry when something happened to him was one of them. "I bet you are," he growled, "How's the...?" he gestured vaguely to his chest, eyebrows raised in question.

Sam winced and looked down at the injury he'd been covering with his hand for the better part of the last hour. Some blood was still leaking through at a pace that was a little quick for his liking, and it hurt like there were still five clawlike fingers inserted there, but he supposed he'd live if he managed to avoid being jostled too much until the wound had time to heal. That didn't make it hurt any less though. "Been better..."

Dean smirked at that, shaking his head in disbelief. "No _duh_, Captain Obvious. When we get back to the hotel I'll take a look, give you some drugs or something." he grinned hugely, "You can handle Tylenol, right? You're not gonna get drunk on me if I give you two of those?"

Sam glowered over at him. "Jerk."

Deans' grin widened; Sammy couldn't be hurt that bad if he was willing to throw an insult, as pathetic an insult as 'jerk' was, it was still the one Sam almost always used first. "B-"

He was interrupted as Sam coughed several times, gasping as the motion caused his chest to feel as if it was being ripped open all over again. Dean grimaced and awkwardly patted him on the back, unsure of what to do. "Hey, easy, Sammy..."

Sam shot him a glare as the coughing fit subsided before he looked out the window. "It's Sam..."

Dean would have tossed back another retort, but then Sam gave another quiet moan and he thought better of the idea. "Hey, are you sure you're feelin' alright? 'Cause if you're not I'll pull over; got a first aid kit in the trunk, I could get it patched up a little at least..."

Sam shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning back against the head rest. "No...I'm fine..."

Dean frowned at that, but figured that sleep probably was the best thing for Sam after something like that. He wasn't sure how bad the injuries to his brothers' chest were, but if they were really severe Sam would have said something about it, which left sleep as the only option for making it better at the moment. Odds were Sam was also freaked out about having had that creep actually touch him, something he hadn't expected in the least. Touching _and _hurting him was a bit much for him to process, probably.

With another quick glance at his brother Dean discovered that Sam was, after only five minutes, asleep. Dang that kid could conk out fast. That just meant a quiet and radio-deprived trip back to the hotel, but they'd be there in a few minutes anyway, Dean would probably spend that time talking to himself and working out new "Get Sammy out of harms' way _before _the uglies can come in contact with him" strategies.

Yeah right, he'd actually be trying to figure why the hell Constance had gone after Sam in the first place.

* * *

_Sam squirmed desperately under the weight of the spirit, wanting to get away from her before he could find out exactly why she was looking at him like that. But she held him fast, keeping him exactly where she wanted him; with no hope of any chance at escape. She leered down at him with falsely pleading eyes, her anger at what had been done to her sparking wildly just beneath the surface. She was painfully close, so much so that Sam could feel the slight tingle brought about by her face being so near his own. He would have been able to feel her breath as well, but she wasn't breathing, nor could she. _

_She leaned even closer to him and his eyes widened in fear as he realized her intentions; this wasn't good, wasn't good at all. His attempts to escape grew even more desperate. He didn't want this to happen, he couldn't let it happen. It shouldn't be happening. For one reason above all others especially._

_"I...I'm not unfaithful!" he gasped, his tone almost begging. He wanted her off of him and he wanted her off of him right now, he didn't think he'd be able to handle another minute of her pinning him down without being sick._

_She came closer still, speaking in a sickening whisper that turned his blood as cold as her own. "You will be."_

_And then came the pain. It felt like his heart was being ripped in half._

* * *

"Sam! Sammy, wake up!" Dean shook his trembling, thrashing younger brother, hoping he'd awake before he managed to hurt himself. He'd started whimpering ten minutes ago, then making a sort of keening sound, and after that he'd started practically screaming in terror and writhing as if he were being electrecuted.

Sams' eyes flew open and he looked around wildly, both hands going up to protect his face from some unseen danger before he realized that the only person with him was Dean, that he was still in the Impala but his lap was decidedly devoid of unearthly occupants. That didn't wash away the memory of what he'd just seen, but it was enough to get him to stop flailing. "Dean?"

Dean nodded, carefully withdrawing his hand from Sams' shoulder and looking at him with concern. "Bad dream, or does it hurt?"

Sam looked away, still breathing in hard, uneven gasps as he tried to force himself to calm down. It had just been a dream, Constance hadn't actually _done _anything to him, he wasn't unfaithful, however much she'd wanted him to be. No, no, it was fine. Who was he kidding, no it wasn't fine. What would Jess think? A small throb in his chest snapped him back to reality. "A...a little of both..." he whispered.

Dean sighed heavily and gave Sam a consolling look. "That was a onetime thing, Sam, next time the slimeball'll be dead way before it gets anywhere near you."

Sam shuddered, taking a shaky breath and taking a sudden interest in his shoes. "She...she..."

Dean slowed the car to a stop as they arrived in the hotel parking lot, then turned to look at Sam more carefully. "She what?" he asked quietly, "Sammy, what did she do?"

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head again, looking like he was about to cry. "I...I told her I've never been unfaithful..."

Dean nodded, peering at Sam so closely that he was pretty sure Sam was going to feel like he was under a microscope. He could almost feel his eyes darken with confusion or anger, or both. He wanted to know whatever that freak had done to his little brother, but at the same time he wasn't sure that he really did want to know. "I know you haven't," he said reassuringly, "The idiot should've gone for me, if she had to go for either of us." he added shamelessly, trying to add a little humour to the situation in the faint hope of making his brother a little less upset.

Sam let his head drop even further, his voice shaking. "She...said that she'd _make _me be..." he replied.

Dean had never moved quite so fast in his entire life, he thought, he had his seatbelt off in about two seconds and had turned fully toward Sam in another two, eyes wide with shock, breath coming faster. "_What_?" he half-yelled, "She didn't-?"

Sam slowly looked up at him, now visably trembling. "She kissed me..."

Dean relaxed, slumping back against the seat and letting out a sigh of relief. He didn't know what he would've done if Sam had confirmed what else had come to mind. Still, it wasn't exactly good that he'd been forced to liplock with a ghost, that would even disturb Dean himself. "Well that couldn't be helped, Sammy-"

Sam nodded rapidly, eyes beginning to glisten. "Yes it could!" he insisted, "I didn't try hard enough to get away from her, what's Jess gonna think? I should have-"

Dean cut him off with a glare. "She had her _hand _in your _chest_, Sam. There wasn't anything you could do."

Sam fixed him with a miserable look. "But that was _after _she started...doing that..."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, did you _ask _her to kiss you until you can't breathe and then rip your heart out?"

Sam shook his head again, frowning. "No..."

Dean nodded and opened the car door. "Exactly, that means it's not your fault and, as far as we're concerned, it didn't happen. Right Sammy?" after catching the reluctant motion of agreement from Sam, Dean motioned for Sam to get out of the car as well, "Good, now let's get inside so I can fix the Whack-A-Sam board that psycho installed in your chest."

* * *

All in all, Dean thought, it hadn't been a terrible trip. Sure he'd wound up having to deal with the fact that some psycho freak had tried to tear his younger brother to shreds, and that same psycho freak had actually kissed his brother, which was still bothering the kid, even though he wasn't going to admit it. And then there was the set of scratches on his car, which he had said messed up brother to thank for, but overall the trip had been successful and he had a clue from their father to follow, hopefully one that would lead them directly where they needed to go. Now he just had to convince Sam to go along with it.

Sam for his part was a little jumpier than normal, but after a nights' sleep in the hotel he'd seemed much better than he'd been in the car, that with Deans' patchwork on the injuries and he was almost totally unscathed. He also wanted to go home and get to his interview on time. Not that Dean wasn't going to try to convince him to stay, but it would be a completely futile effort in any case, both of them knew.

So Dean left Sam at his apartment, saying an annoyed goodbye and waiting until he saw his brother actually enter the building before he drove away in the Impala. Well, he'd tried. It wasn't his fault that his baby brother wasn't cut out for hunting, would rather have a normal life. He wondered to himself if Sam would have stayed had it not been for that accident with Constance, if he, Dean, had arrived a little sooner to get the spirit off of Sammy, would Sam have decided to stay? Was it the fact that Constance had actually kissed him that made him decide that he'd rather not risk a thing like that ever happening again? Dean hoped not, because that would make it his fault for not arriving to help before the ghost had gotten her claws into Sam.

He gave a frustrated growl, glancing down at his watch to check the time. The thing was, his watch had stopped.

* * *

_Four year old Dean Winchester awoke with a start; something wasn't right and whatever it was involved his little brother. He jumped out of bed and hurried down the hall toward Sammys' room, intending to make sure he was alright and maybe call for mommy if he wasn't as alright as Dean hoped he was. He frowned lightly as he saw a flickering orange light coming from the room; what was that? The clock at the end of the hall was completely still, as was the one downstairs; the house was deathly silent, but no ticking could be heard. What could possibly be happening?_

_The door was open, he noticed, and there was heat pouring from around the entrance. He went inside quickly, instantly seeing his father standing there in a state of panic. Where was Sam? He was at his fathers' side in an instand, wide eyes looking up at the man questioningly. "Daddy?" _

_John Winchester blinked out of his stupour and looked down at his oldest son, springing into action as he heard the boys' voice; he had to get Dean and Sammy out of here, he wasn't going to have them end up dead as well. Not wanting Dean to look up through the flames and see Mary, he quickly handed his youngest son over to Dean, pushing the older boy toward the door. "Hurry, Dean, take Sammy and run!" he ordered, not paying attention to whether the command was followed but rather turning his attention back to Mary right away._

_Dean looked back once the whole way out of the burning building, then again when he was outside. He held his little brother close, watching the home intently as he awaited his fathers' return from inside. He wanted to ask what was happening, where mommy was, why this was happening. But then, he supposed, his first priority should be whether Sam was alright, which he seemed to be. No blood or anything, except for on his forehead. However, on closer inspection Dean realized that the blood wasn't that of his little brother, it had to be from someone else._

_When their father finally came out of the building, there wasn't really much else to do but wait for the police to come, nothing to do but stand outside the only home Dean had ever known, the last one he'd ever know, and watch it burn. He looked up at his father with that questioning look again. "Daddy," he asked quietly, "Why was the clocks all stopped?"_

_John took a hesitant, faltering breath, "Because, Son," he said softly, "We were out of time."_

* * *

Dean ran into the house as quickly as he could, looking around wildly for his little brother. He didn't have to wait long before he could hear the terrified screams of "NO!" coming from somewhere upstairs. Oh hell, he was too late then! He growled in frustration and ran up the stairs, seeing a door at the top and hurrying toward it. He couldn't believe this was happening...

As he reached the door he was almost sick at the smell of sulfur coming from this general area, he could see the orange glow beneath the door, feel the heat of fire radiating from the room. So he really was too late. He kicked the door open and entered quickly, gun drawn and ready to fire in case whatever was doing this was still here. It wasn't, but his attention was refocused almost instantly onto his brother, lying backwards on the bed, hands gripping his head in such a way that Dean almost thought his brother wanted to crush his own skull. He was staring up at the ceiling with a look of complete horror, a telltale sign that someone had died. What was the name Sammy had mentioned? Jess, Dean thought...

But there wasn't anything to be done for Jess, he reminded himself. Sam was the one he had to worry about, had to get out of here before more damage could be done. He sprang into action, grabbing Sam and dragging him off the bed and toward the door, feeling Sam lurching against his grip and fighting to get away from him.

"No! No!" his brother shrieked, flailing desperately to escape, "Jess!"

Dean swore as Sams' hand connected with the side of his face, making him see stars for a moment. He pinned Sams' arms to his sides, pulling him back and trying not to stumble as he carefully manhandled his little brother out of the room. He had to get Sammy out of here, whether he wanted to be gotten out or not.

Sam gradually calmed, well, more like became more resigned to what Dean was doing, although that didn't stop him from going into full on panic every few seconds, fighting as hard as he could to get away from his brother. He finally managed to writhe out of Deans' grip as they neared the door, smoke pouring into the house at blinding levels and hiding Sam from view long enough for him to get about halfway back up the stairs before Dean was on him again, this time not even making an attempt not to cause injury and actually using the still-healing wounds in Sams' chest to his advantage by grabbing Sam around the torso and pressing both hands against the wound just hard enough to make Sam go almost completely limp at the pain it caused.

"Sorry Sammy..." he hissed, yanking him back and out of the house the rest of the way. Both of them were panting heavily, for most of the same reasons. Sam was still screaming Jess' name and trying uselessly to get back inside, though Dean dragged him to the Impala and practically threw him against it, pinning him in place and holding him still. He wasn't going to let go and call the police until he was sure Sam wasn't going to do something stupid the second Dean wasn't there to stop him.

Not that Dean needed to bother calling the police; some of the other people who lived here already had done, gabbing into their phones at mach-seven. Dean breathed a quiet sigh of relief at that, only to half-yelp in surprise when Sam suddenly bucked against his grip, jerking backwards in attempt to get out from between the two things- Dean and the Impala- that were holding him firmly in place. Dean groaned and pressed his knee into the small of Sams' back, hoping that he'd just give up already. "Sammy! Easy, Sammy..."

Sam whimpered and, after about another minute, fell still. Dean slowly eased the pressure that he was using to hold Sam against the car, pulling him back and turning him slowly when he realized that his brother didn't have any fight left in him. He needed to make sure his younger brother was okay, that he hadn't actually been hurt during the ordeal. The hell he hadn't; the poor kid was out of it. His face was deathly pale, streaked with tears. His eyes were much wider than they should've been, still glistening with terror. Dean sighed and pulled Sam into a hug, rubbing his back and rocking him lightly back and forth. "Shh, it's alright, Sammy...it's over..."

Only a muffled sob and a hoarse whisper came in reply. "Jess...Jess..."

A siren wailed in the distance, making both Sam and Dean flinch. Dean groaned softly; how on Earth was he going to explain this to the police? It didn't seem fair to make Sam answer any questions about what had just happened, that would just be like rubbing salt into a demons' wound. He supposed it really didn't matter as long as it was a reasonable lie, he couldn't exactly tell them what had really happened, could he? One thing he knew for sure, the second the police were gone he was going to take Sam to a quiet hotel for a few days to let him wind down properly.

And that brought up another uncomfortable thought. He tried to pretend he didn't know where Sam was going to go after all of this, that he didn't know exactly what his little brother would do. But in truth, he had absolutely no doubt that he was about to get exactly what he'd been wishing for ever since Sammy had left two years before. He had his little brother back, he thought as he continued to hug his trembling younger sibling, but at the cost of something he'd never wanted Sam to lose in the first place. The thought of it felt like his heart was being ripped in half.

But the thing was, Dean realized after another moment, was that if both of their hearts had effectively been torn in two, didn't that make both of them together a whole? One thing was certain, he was going to make sure Sammy was never alone again.

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* * *

**The Beginning. **


End file.
